


Rendezvous

by JemDoe



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: During Canon, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 20:23:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9341753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JemDoe/pseuds/JemDoe
Summary: The Astronomy Tower was neutral ground after Dumbledore’s death.





	

The Astronomy Tower was neutral ground after Dumbledore’s death, everyone knew that. It wasn’t unusual to see people ducking there, either escaping the troupe of Slytherins acting in the name of a Dark Lord some barely believed in or escaping from having to actually do those acts. Pansy was in the latter group.

She passed a lit cigarette to Ginny Weasley, who accepted it quietly, making a mental note to thank Davies for those and took a deep breath, inhaling the smoke and holding it in her lungs, eyes lazily accompanying Weasley cure bruises Pansy had made not even hours earlier. Pansy let the smoke go, making small rings with it and watching it float away for a moment.

“You look shitty, Weasel,”, she started, and Weasley said nothing. “Bad day at work?”

“Don’t even tell me, Parkinson,”, Weasley replied, rolling her hazel eyes. “There was this bitch at work with a mean Crucio curse, y’know?”

It was an weird camaraderie they had, the two of them; two idiots at war, in opposite sides, sharing parts of their day like hours before their secret rendezvous they hadn’t tried their best to kill each other with crucios and bat bogey hexes. It started somewhere during the first two weeks of the new scholar regimen, Pansy and Weasley becoming enemies more than before - both headstrong, both good friends of someone important to their side, both willing to murder, even if Weasley didn’t speak as openly about it as Pansy did.

Still, soon enough, Pansy and Weasley found themselves in the Astronomy Tower, Weasley healing herself, Pansy considering throwing herself out of the tower to escape the marriage with some old fat cunt who was going for her inheritance money, being the sole daughter of the Parkinson line.

She took the cigarette out of her mouth, watching Weasley make rings of her own, skin still marred and bruised in some places. _War medals_ , as she had called them.

“Why don’t you tell them to fuck off? Bet they’d listen to a cute redhead like you,”, Pansy replied, tapping away the ashes and putting it back in her mouth.

Weasley rolled her eyes again.

“Yeah, sure. Gonna ask them to marry me as well, while I’m at it. Bet that old dude you’re betrothed to would have a heart attack and die.”

Pansy laughed. She’d _kill_ for it to happen, but Pansy would kill for many things. She wondered how much lives she’d have to take for it to happen.

The answer was three. Weasley didn’t need to know that.

“Sounds nice. Can you imagine, although? You, me, a little house on the countryside, three redheads kids we adopted, my parents dying of shame, yours sending howlers. Sure you don’t wanna do it?”, Pansy asked, and it was Weasley’s turn to laugh.

“Oh, geez, I don’t know,”, Weasley offered, a grin decorating her lips. Weasley was pretty, even with the black eye Pansy had given her today. “What are you bringing, honey? I can’t marry if my wife doesn’t bring in something to the table.”

This was probably some small fantasy she could afford, Pansy rationalized. For one moment, she could pretend she wasn’t going to marry an old wizard lord from who knows where, become his newest child bride and birth his heirs.

“I can offer a house, nice and warm, and I’ve got a vault full of money. You won’t need to work, unless you want to.”, Pansy smiled lazily, imagining. “We can have like, three kids. We blood adopt them, and love them like they aren’t mudbloods.”

“While I hate to admit it, you’re breaking my heart here, Pansy,”, Weasley sighed, and Pansy flinched. “But _do_ go on, what do we name the Weasley-Parkinson?”

“We’re gonna have two girls and a boy, and we can name the girls Amaryllis for my sister and Molly for your mom. The boy can be named Arthur, for your dad.”, because like hell she’d name any kid after her shitty dad. Pansy breathed the toxic smoke, letting it burn her insides for a second before letting it go.

“Sounds nice. Where is our house?”

“I have lots of them, just chose one property, Weasley.”

Pansy let herself fall, sitting by Weasley’s side, and the girl touched Pansy’s arm carefully. Pansy closed her eyes, the image of grass fields and Weasley’s laughter filling her mind. When rose bushes filled her mind, Pansy opened her eyes, staring at the rock.

“We could, you know?”, Weasley said, making Pansy’s eyes turn to the redhead. “Get married, I mean. I can’t bring enough money, and certainly can’t cover your bride price, but hey, at least you’d get rid of the fat fucker.”

“And then we’d both get shunned by british society,”, Pansy retorted. She had to admit that the image of her parents embarrassed by her elopement was nice, at least, and she faintly hoped it killed both of them out of shock.

“Don’t you got a vault full of money? We can run away for Paris.”, Weasley shrugged, and Pansy considered it carefully. “Get a name change, leave all this mess behind us, pretend we aren’t… Well, _us_.”

“You’re not sound very Gryffindor here, Weasley.”

“I’m a Slytherin at heart, baby,”, Weasley grinned. “So, what do you say? We go back for Easter, get the first train to Paris, and come back when this is all done and said.”

Pansy laughed and rose up, cleaning her clothes.

“Nice fantasy we got there, Weasley, but it’s time to go. You got a hall to paint, and I got someone to torture.”

“Namely me, yes,”, Weasley nodded, and gestured to the entrance. “Go on, I’ll just finish this in a sec and we can go back to our jobs.”

“I’ll be waiting,”, Pansy replied, picking her wand, stopping for a moment to kiss Weasley, soft and careful, before going downstairs. Blaise waited for her, looking to the other side, and she could feel his disappointment. As if Pansy gave a shit.

They started patrolling the dark halls, silence between them heavy and thick. Any other time, they’d be chatting, but both hated this part - the waiting for one of the rebels was always the worst, when tension coiled in their stomachs, waiting.

Weasley didn’t appear, but the crude painting of the Dark Lord doing things not befitting his station took a chuckle out of Pansy. Blaise just looked at her, cold and unfeeling, like a snake.

“You smell like a weasel, Pansy,”, he said, while the two erased Weasley’s art. She rolled her eyes.

“Well, you smell like Loony Lovegood, but I’m not saying anything about it, am I?”, Pansy retorted, and Blaise spoke nothing. “It’s none of your business. We just chat, that’s all.”

“The cigarettes you buy from Tracey say otherwise. Always double of what you usually smoke. Are you sharing? She is the enemy.”, Blaise’s voice dripped with poison, but if he was aconite, Pansy could be belladonna.

“I don’t know, why don’t you tell me? I always see you buying chocolate, and I know you’re allergic to it,”, Pansy hummed. Blaise huffed. “It’s in the Astronomy Tower, Blaise, don’t worry.”

“That’s exactly _why_ I worry, Pansy.”, he replied, before falling silent for the rest of their patrol. She didn’t try to pick up the conversation.

The following night, Pansy passed another lit cigarette to Weasley, the cold wind blasting around them. Weasley sported a black eye, and Pansy’s hand was still stiff from holding her wand for so long.

She had been issued a challenge - how much time could a caught rebel scream during a Crucio? -, and she had to respond in kind. Her victim had been a nameless Hufflepuff, younger than her, and Weasley had been forced to watch, since Amycus hadn’t let her take the kid’s place. Pansy had held the curse for three minutes and fourteen seconds, and then the kid had started to cough blood. She had stopped, and the kid had been left alone, disappearing in the crowd moments after. She could feel the glares in her back as she was issued another rebel, the face familiar but Pansy couldn’t name it.

“Are the kids alright?”, Pansy asked, watching as the rings she blew disappeared into the night air.

“Yeah, we got them ready for another round,”, Weasley replied, the black eye dark as the night around them. “I wish this would end already.”

“Me too.”

“You’re getting married to that fat cunt after this is over, although,”, Weasley frowned, and Pansy smiled.

“I thought you’d get rid of him for me, darling.”, Pansy got closer to Weasley, hands touching. Weasley grinned.

“I’d dirty my hands if you let me,”, Weasley replied, kissing Pansy, mouth tasting like the acrid smoke. When they separated, Weasley smiled. “But you won’t.”

“You’d be caught,”, Pansy replied, rising up. “See you soon.”

Weasley laughed, bitter, and Pansy grinned.

“Don’t you always?”, Weasley replied, putting the cigar between her lips.


End file.
